


Fête (Or Something Better)

by SilverShadow1711



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Older Man/Younger Woman, One-Sided Attraction, Prequel, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25851694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverShadow1711/pseuds/SilverShadow1711
Summary: It is expected of a princess to conduct herself with poise and elegance, especially during social gatherings... even if she's never been to one before. Fortunately, Gunther is well-versed in many things beyond the scope of battle.
Relationships: Gunter/My Unit | Kamui | Corrin
Kudos: 7





	Fête (Or Something Better)

**Author's Note:**

> Huh. I posted this to FFN, but never to AO3 (probably because this site is a hassle). Oh well. This isn't exactly a full prequel to “The Road Not Trekked”, but part of one. Nerr often mentions “the fête” in that series, so I felt like actually writing it out to explain her guff with Xander over it. It's mostly just a slice of life for everyone's (least) favorite bitch-Lord. Takes place two years before the start of TRNT, so Nerr's about sixteen.

_ “Our life goes by. Romantic dreams must die, so I bid mine goodbye...” _

000000

It was spring in Nohr. Or so Nerr heard. Elsewhere, flowers were blooming and the cycle of life was beginning anew, but deep in the mountains where the Northern Citadel was situated, everything remained as barren and stagnant as it had always been. She  _ thought _ she might have seen more wild Wyverns in the skies overhead, but maybe it was the same population it had always been, and she was willing herself to see things that weren't there. There  _ were _ flowers in the fortress she called home, but with their cut stems, they were relegated to vases, slowly dying as the days passed. Still, she appreciated the blooms Elise brought when she came to visit- they did wonders in making the harsh stone look more lively. As the middle princess half ran, half skipped up to the roof where her brother was waiting, she stopped by one heavy vase and stood on her bare toes to press her face against the pink and white petals. They still smelled sweet. Before they withered completely, she would pluck them and set them out in the scant sunlight that reached her home to dry them. She'd been doing that for the last few years, ever since Camilla had brought her a sachet of potpourri. Granted, her homemade version didn't smell as good as what perfumers could concoct, but it made her feel better to see it.

“Hey! Lady Nerr! What're you doing, loafing around?” The princess looked up to see Felicia leaning over the wrought iron railings of the next landing. Her lips pulled down into a frown- the ditzy maid looked ready to flip over the banister. Hadn't she learned her lesson yet?

“I'm not loafing anywhere. I'm... stopping to smell the flowers.” The maid giggled.

“Well, I don't think Prince Xander is going to accept that as an excuse for why you're late. You know he's been waiting for almost twenty minutes, right?” Nerr swore under her breath. The crown prince of Nohr was a stickler for punctuality; sadly, she seemed to be blessed with finding new ways to get side tracked. Tearing herself away from the flowers, she continued up the massive spiral staircase in a full on run. By the time she made it all the way up to the tower, she was winded and breathing heavily. Normally, a few laps wouldn't be enough to leave her breathless, but she was used to running on a flat surface, not up an incline. Xander was less than impressed with her current state. He had been leaning against one of the low battlements, arms crossed over his plate covered chest.

“You are quite late, sister.”

“I know...” She muttered to the ground. It would've been easy to try and justify her tardiness, saying she had been in the library finishing up her lessons, and that she'd had to go back to her room to put on her training armor, and that she'd left her sword back in the courtyard and had to run back down to retrieve it  _ before _ being distracted by the flowers, but she knew that Xander would've had a retort to every excuse she could muster. Such things never happened to him. He was organized and thoughtful and  _ perfect _ , the perfect heir to Nohr's throne. If she could only come  _ close _ to his level... The older man seemed to mistake her weary thoughtfulness for repentance, for when he pushed himself away from the tower wall, his gaze was softer.

“It is forgivable, little princess, but do try to be on time when I next come. No matter how skilled you may be with a blade, Father will not be impressed if you cannot hold an appointment.” Nerr flinched at his words. She didn't need another reminder that she was a disappointment to their father.

“I will, brother...”

“Then enough talk,” The prince unsheathed his blade, a simple iron sword he had undoubtedly picked up in the citadel's armory. “I trust you have been diligent in your training since last I was here?” She smiled at those words, drawing her own blade.

“Of course. I almost had you last time. This time, I'll best you for sure, Xander!”

000

Despite her confidence at the beginning of their sparring match, by the time Xander had called an end to it, Nerr was sincerely contemplating hurling herself over the battlements to simply put herself out of her misery. Despite training for hours each day, despite the callouses on her hands and the muscles and endurance she built every week, she had somehow gotten  _ worse _ . The only reason she escaped with only a large bruise blooming across her arm and not an impromptu amputation was because Xander had held back. He  _ always _ held back, and she  _ still _ couldn't defeat him.

“Keep your chin up, Nerr. You have most definitely improved since our last sparring session. Your form is much better, and you follow through when you riposte now.”

“I'm worthless," She muttered to her knees. “Just end me now, before someone on the battlefield does it in your stead...”

“That is quite enough of that," Xander reached down, grabbing her arm and brusquely pulling her to her feet. “Nohrian royals do not sit about, feeling sorry for themselves. If you think that you haven't improved, then you must take it upon yourself to improve more.” Nerr remained silent, looking anywhere but at his face. It must have been easy for him to speak like that; he was already perfect at everything. A strong hand gripped her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his. His violet eyes were intense, but it was a warm intensity. “You have the potential to be so much better than you think, little princess. I believe in you. But I need  _ you _ to believe in you as well.” The girl stared at her older brother in awed silence... until a snort of laughter tore her eyes away from him. 

“How long were you waiting to break out  _ that _ inspirational speech, brother?” She pulled away from him, still laughing slightly, though feeling better than she had before their battle started. “But... I appreciate it. Thank you, Xander, truly.” Although he had looked miffed at her apparent mockery, the prince now smiled as well.

“I am glad to see a smile back on your face, sister. My report to Father will be positive. Although...” Nerrs' stomach sank at that word.

“'Although' what? What did I do wrong?!” Xander blinked in surprise, as though he had forgotten her momentarily.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing, Nerr; it's nothing you've done. I simply wonder if Father will have the time to properly read into my reports.”

“Is he leaving to hold court somewhere else?” She asked, unable to keep the giddiness from her voice. Nerr had never left the citadel since she'd been born, but she knew that there were other palaces in other cities that her family occasionally visited so that the king could speak to the dukes and duchesses presiding over Nohr's outlying territories. She dreamed of the day she would be able to accompany them and finally see her beloved Nohr for what it was rather than what she imagined it could be. Xander chuckled warmly at her curiosity, patting her on the head before turning on his heel and making his way towards the stairs.

“Not until summer, little princess. No, Father is holding a fête in Krakenburg. There has been talk of discontent in Chevalier and Freesia, and he will have to speak to the nobles from those lands. Reminding the nobility of their loyalties always puts him in a sour mood...” Perhaps she should've been more concerned about the delicate politics being discussed, but Nerr gasped as her eyes widened almost comically. Xander had to stop short as she threw herself in his path, clawing at his violet tabard.

“There's going to be a  _ ball...? _ With dancing, and music, and hors dourves...?! You have to tell me  _ everything _ , brother! You'll have to take extensive notes; I don't want to miss out on a single thing! I want to know what pennants were hung up, and what kind of dresses the ladies wore, and--” With the long-suffering patience of a man who'd endured such exuberance many times before, the crown prince gently pried his sister's hands loose, setting them back at her sides.

“You know I will, little princess. Have the details of my reports ever been anything less than satisfactory?”

“No...” She admitted with a small sigh. Xander was good at indulging her this odd obsession. All she knew of the world outside the outer bailey of the citadel came from second hand accounts, usually Gunther's.

Once, years ago, she had asked her eldest sibling to tell her what the Nohrian capital was like. She'd been left despondent when he refused initially, but a few days later, he had returned with a sheaf of papers, crowded with his neatly slanted writing. Entire pages documented the layout of homes and businesses, the architecture, even the history of certain monuments. After that, any time the royal family went somewhere where she was not allowed to join them (which was everywhere), the prince had taken it upon himself to laboriously document what had happened and what they saw. Nerr read and re-read his summaries as though they were novels, often letting her mind wander and pretending she had been there with them. It was a silly dream, but it was all she had. One day, when she was a good enough soldier to stand against the accursed Hoshidans, she would be permitted to accompany the royal family on their ventures, but that day would not come any time soon.

000

The clang of metal against metal was almost deafening, though Nerr could barely hear even that over the sound of blood pounding in her ears. She was no longer a person, simply an extension of her blade as it blocked and swung. Given her concentration, it was hardly surprising that she didn't notice the voice calling out to her until it was practically in her ear.

“Nerr! Oh,  _ there _ you are, my dearest darling~!”

“Huh?” The princess turned towards the sound of her name, thrown for a loop. Her confusion did not last long, quickly overtaken by pain exploding in her face as the iron shaft of a lance collided with her cheek, stunning her and knocking her to the ground. She swore loudly, covering her face as the pain surged through her nerves. Rapid footsteps stopped in front of her, and she barely had time to come to her senses as a strong pair of arms wrapped tightly around her.

“Oh, my poor baby! Are you hurt? Here, let mommy see...” Groaning slightly, Nerr tried to look up, but found her way blocked by her sister's massive bosom.

“Can't move, Camilla. Kind of trapped...” The older princess reluctantly released her, and she let herself fall back, sitting hard on the dirty stone of the courtyard. She tilted her head back to scowl at the man standing behind her. “That was a dirty trick, you know that?”

“No, it was foolishness on your part, my lady,” Gunther explained calmly. She hated it when he took that tone with her; the slightest hint of condescension in his voice was a hundred, thousand times worse than all the arrogance Leo could ever hope to muster. “On the battlefield, being distracted may cost you your life rather than just your pride.” In that time, Camilla had gotten back to her feet, and was glaring at the old knight with her visible eye.

“You didn't have to actually  _ strike _ her to get that point across! What if you had put her eye out!?”

“Better she lose an eye in training than her head in battle, milady.” Groaning slightly, Nerr got back to her feet. The pain was already beginning to dull, and she could feel the swelling starting to go down as well. In a few minutes, she would be right as rain.

“It's fine, Camilla. It  _ was _ my fault, after all...” As her gaze fell back on her sister, the older woman's eyes softened, and she reached out to cup her cheeks.

“Don't you dare blame yourself for this, dearest. It may have been my fault for distracting you- it was  _ definitely _ Gunther's fault for hitting you--”

“Camilla...” Her voice held an edge to it, one that was promptly ignored by the other princess as she drew the younger girl into a bone breaking embrace.

“I mean, what if that had left a mark on your perfect, flawless face? Of course, you would still be adorable, but I couldn't  _ bear it _ if I knew I was- at least in part- responsible for you being less than utter perfection. And so close to the fête? It would be a travesty!” Nerr frowned deeply at her words. Not the doting and rambling about perfection- that was normal from Camilla.

“Who cares about the fête? I hardly think  _ my _ appearance should limit  _ your _ enjoyment of it.”

“But it would limit  _ your _ enjoyment of it, darling. We'd have to cover up any marks with makeup, and with your beautiful complexion, that just wouldn't do--”

“Wait wait wait... wait. ...Wait.” Nerr drew back from her sister, brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about, Camilla? You're making it sound like  _ I'm _ going to the fête.” The older woman smiled widely at her words.

“Of course I am, sweetie. Because you are.” Silence hung between them for a long moment... before Nerr turned away from the other princess, picking up her sword and settling back into a fighting stance.

“Uh huh. Sure. En garde, Gunther!” At once, the sound of weapons clashing overtook the small courtyard again. Her practice duel was brought to an abrupt halt as an axe came down on the locked sword and lance, driving them apart. Camilla stood between the fighters, her lips turned down as she looked at her sister.

“I'm being quite serious, Nerr. This is the news I came to give you.” Nerr stood gaping at her blankly for a long while before she shook her head, causing her sweat drenched hair to whip about.

“No. I don't believe you. I'm never invited to anything, ever. You're lying to me for... some reason.” The older woman looked hurt at her words.

“When have I ever lied to you about anything, Nerr?” She remained silent. Gunther spoke up instead, voicing the question she was too afraid to ask herself.

“Has the king rescinded his order that Lady Nerr not leave the citadel?” Oh, if only! If she could be permitted to live in Krakenburg with her brothers and sisters and train and learn alongside them, rather than these sporadic visits...! Alas, such was too dear a dream, and Camilla shook her head sadly.

“I'm afraid not. Father has made it quite clear that this is a one-time occurrence... for the moment. Xander has informed him of how much progress you've made with your training, and this is... well, he says it's a 'reward', but I think the word he was looking for was 'incentive'...” Nerr could barely pay attention to what she was saying. Even if it was a one-off reward or incentive or whatever it was, it was still a chance to leave the citadel! To see the world beyond the mountains, to visit the castle she longed to call home! She could feel her arms shaking, the sword she still clutch rattling violently in her grip. A large, warm hand rested on her shoulder.

“My lady? Are you alright?” Gunther's voice, concerned though it was, set off the tightly wound spring that had coiled inside her, and the princess jumped, throwing her hands in the air and barely noticing as her sword went flying.

“I'm going to the fête! I'm going to the fête!!” Laughter welled up inside her as she bounced around the courtyard, knowing she looked foolish and childish, but unable to care.  _ Finally _ , she would be able to experience something first hand. She would be there to make her own memories, and not have to rely on other peoples' recollections. Unable to contain her giddy energy, she whooped with joy and did a handspring, nearly colliding with a wall as she righted herself. Behind her, she could hear both Camilla and Gunther chuckling at her, though not mockingly.

“Goodness; if I had known you would be  _ this _ excited, I would've gotten Xander to convince Father to let you attend a ball years ago...” Nerr turned around and dashed back to her sister, eyes alight.

“Of course I'm excited! I'll get to be with all of you and listen to musicians and see all the pretty gowns--”

“And wear your  _ own _ gown, and dance with all the lords and nobles who will be attending...” Camilla continued for her, smiling widely. The younger girl's own smile dimmed a bit.

“D-dance...?”

“Of course, darling. What; did you think you would simply be sitting off to the side, watching the events unfold?”

“Uhhh...” Honestly, that was  _ exactly _ what she had thought would happen. For whatever reason, she hadn't connected attending a ball with actually being  _ involved _ with said ball. Camilla didn't seem to notice the change in her mood.

“We'll have to get you a new gown made, and you'll need stays, and shoes--” 

“ _ Shoes?!” _ Stays were bad enough, but no one said anything about horrid  _ foot _ stays!

“Well, naturally! You can't be expected to attend a royal ball in bare feet like some kind of savage! Oh, it will be delightful! Come with me, dearest; I need to take your measurements. You're a growing girl, after all- we don't want your new gown to be too tight. And I'll need your foot size, and we can figure out how you're going to wear your hair! I can't believe we only have a month to prepare!” As Camilla began dragging the other girl back to the castle, Nerr shot one last, desperate look at her retainer. 

“Wh-what about training?”

“Oh, I think we can end it a bit early today, my lady. I daresay you'll enjoy your... preparations.”  _ No! I won't! _ She mouthed desperately as she reached out to him futilely with her free hand. Her last hope for salvation simply waved at her as she was pulled into the depths.

000

Nerr was engaged in a rigorous, calisthenic workout. At least, that was what a passerby would have thought had they seen her swinging her arms to and fro as she twisted her torso. In actuality, she was desperately trying to reach the laces between her shoulder blades. Each time her fingers brushed against the dangling strings, they seemed to pull away before she could grip them. If she were sitting, she could maybe lean back, but then, she would not be able to stand again. The evil foot stays (known to most people as “shoes”) Camilla had gotten for her were designed to ensure their wearer was as immobile as possible. The last time she had sat while wearing them, attempting to get up resulted in her falling flat on her face. The easy solution would be to just remove them, but they were tied around her ankles, and she needed to bend over to untie them... which she could not do while her stays were laced as tightly as they were... which was why she was trying to unlace them... It was an endless cycle of torment. Utterly defeated, the princess let her arms drop to her sides and panted, trying to inflate her lungs as much as she could while they were being mercilessly squeezed. She could hear footsteps outside her door, and brightened at once. Footsteps meant people, and people meant hands that could reach where she couldn't! Tottering over to the door (and trying her damnedest not to fall again), Nerr pulled it open and threw herself at the body that was just about to pass.

“Save me, Gunther!!”

“My lady, what-- gods above! What are you doing?!” He gripped her upper arms and roughly pushed her away, his normally stoic face dark. “What are you thinking, walking about in such a state of undress? Have you any idea how untoward this is?!” Nerr was certain that he _thought_ was he was saying was important, but the urgentness of his words were lost on her as she once again gasped for breath.

“Can't breathe! Help!” A sour look twisted his face as he actually took in her attire.

“Ugh. Get back inside...” He pushed her back towards her room, though more gently than his previous actions, following suit and closing the door. Nerr had made it as far as her table before doubling over, resting her hands on the scrubbed wood. Her ribs were killing her, her stomach was killing her;  _ everything _ was a massive ache. This was an instrument of torture. She could hear Gunther approaching her, but barely paid him any mind until his fingers brushed against the bare skin of her back. A shiver crept up her spine, but any and all sensation was quickly forgotten as relief spread through her torso the moment the laces were loosened. She inhaled deeply, taking in as much air as her lungs could hold, before sighing loudly.

“Oh, thank the  _ gods!! _ I thought I was gonna  _ die!! _ ”

“You're exaggerating, Lady Nerr.” She frowned deeply, and turned to face her retainer.

“ 'Exaggerating'...? How about I lace  _ you _ up in this thing, Gunther; we'll see how much you think I'm exaggerating  _ then _ .”

“The ladies at court wear stays everyday, and no one hears them complaining.”

“Yeah, well, they don't hear me complaining when I wear armor and get my arms broken by the crown prince, either. Everyone has a limit for the amount of pain they can tolerate, and I've reached mine...” Sighing once more, the princess teetered over to her bed, grabbing the blouse she had been wearing before Flora helped her into her restraints, and throwing it back on. Camilla had told her she needed to wear her stays all the time except for training and bathing. She hadn't said anything about it being this horrible. Groaning, she tried to curl her toes, cringing when she couldn't.

“I  _ hate _ this...!” She moaned. “I can't even  _ walk _ ; how am I supposed to learn how to dance?!” Leo had brought her a few books containing basic dance steps, but every time Nerr tried to follow the instructions, she ended up stumbling and falling. A few days ago, she had twisted her ankle, and promptly threw the books in the corner, which had remained their home ever since. She could feel Gunther approaching her once more, and now that she wasn't distracted by a lack of oxygen, the sudden awareness of his proximity caused the heat to rise in her cheeks.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance, my lady. I have a bit of knowledge in such matters.” The princess quirked a brow at his words.

“Oh?”

“Indeed. When you walk, I've noticed you seem to be keeping all your weight on your toes. Not only is that uncomfortable, but it hardly lends itself to good balance.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?”

“Walk as you normally would. Stand up straight,” Quite doubtful, she followed his advice nonetheless, straightening and feeling the older man's hands on her shoulders, keeping her upright. Even though he was wearing gloves and she long sleeves, her heart still fluttered at the contact. “Relax your shoulders a bit. Now, when you walk, remember that your steps should be 'heel, toe'. You are not attempting to sneak through the kitchens.” Nerr glanced back at him, concern on her face.

“What if I lean too far back and fall?”

“Do you worry about that happening when you  _ aren't _ wearing shoes?”

“No...”

“Then you needn't worry about it now. Now march!” Inhaling deeply, the princess put one foot in front of the other, making a mental note that she was  _ not _ creeping about. She was just walking normally... albeit with her heels held up far too high. Inhaling deeply, she tried to pretend she was walking normally, with her feet firmly on the ground.  _ Heel, toe, heel, toe... _ she repeated the mantra to herself. She wasn't stumbling, she didn't need to reach out to catch herself on anything... As she reached the other side of the room, she turned, beaming at her retainer.

“I did it! I walked and didn't fall once!!” Gunther raised his hands and applauded quietly.

“Very well done, my lady. You are as elegant as any lady-in-waiting. I am certain you will bring that elegance to the dance floor as well.” Her elated expression fell slightly at the reminder.

“Oh. Right. Dancing...”

“You sound less than pleased. I thought you had longed for a chance to join your siblings in one of the many social events that constitute their lives?” Nerr groaned slightly, a sense of dread settling in the pit of her stomach.

“I  _ did _ , but... somehow, when I imagined it, I wasn't thrashing about like I was having a fit. Camilla said she'd come by to help me learn how to dance, but I sincerely doubt one lesson is going to do me much good...” She trailed off sadly, and silence fell between liege and retainer, until a thought hit her so suddenly, she half expected to see it bounce off the back of her head. “Can you teach me, Gunther?”

“Can I teach you what?” He asked, with an expression that could be called gormless on a less dignified man.

“How to dance!” Trying to reign in her enthusiasm lest she face plant onto the thin carpet, Nerr quickly walked back towards the knight, gazing up at him in what she hoped was a disarming manner. Despite the fact that she was trying to work  _ him _ over, she could not help the flush she felt growing in her cheeks as she looked into his dark eyes. “You know everything about everything, Gunther. Didn't you say that you accompanied Father to Cyrkensia, like, a thousand times?”

“It was hardly that many,” The older man looked away from her, and she felt her heart drop a little; he was making it clear he would not soften up as easily as Xander. “And besides; that hardly qualifies me for anything. Watching a performer onstage does not make one a performer.”

“...you know, you didn't actually  _ deny _ knowing how to dance...” Maybe she was just imagining things, but she could have sworn the color rose in her retainer's cheeks at her observation. Nerr could not stop the smile from stretching across her face. “You  _ do _ , don't you? You  _ do _ know how to dance! Oh, teach me, Gunther! Please! If you don't, I'll look like a fool at the fête, and Xander will be disappointed in me, and Father will never let me leave the citadel  _ again!! _ ” Gunther rolled his eyes at her theatrics.

“You are once again exaggerating, Lady Nerr. Although... I suppose it  _ is _ prudent for a lady of your standing to know how to dance, and if your education in  _ any _ area is lacking, I imagine Prince Xander would lay the blame solely at  _ my _ feet...” He muttered that last bit more to himself than to her, but she didn't care. At that moment, Nerr wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around her dearest retainer's neck and squeeze him until he realized just how grateful she was that he was doing this, but she knew full well that would only lead to yet another lecture about propriety. So instead, the princess reached down, taking her knight's hand in both of hers and pressing her lips to the backs of his fingers.

“Thank you  _ so _ much for this, Gunther! I promise, I'll be the greatest pupil you've ever had!” For a moment, Gunther seemed taken aback (by her words or actions, she couldn't tell), but his surprise quickly reverted back to a kindly smile. He pulled his hand free of her grip, resting it atop her head.

“I have no doubt of that, my lady.”

000

Dancing was almost as confusing to learn as swordplay, and it seemed much less intuitive to Nerr. Given that she had balked at the thought of having an audience present while she floundered, and Gunther repeatedly deemed it “untoward” to remain in her room for any period of time, their lessons were held in the library. Another reason she could not concentrate on the matter at hand was because she was certain her servants were just outside the large double doors, just waiting for her to crash into something. She had warned them to stay out of the library upon pain of death, but she just  _ knew _ they were there.  _ Especially _ Flora, the little sneak. That look on her face when she'd asked who specifically was  _ giving _ the lessons...

“Lady Nerr, while a firm grip is commendable, if you squeeze your partners' hand that tightly, you will end up breaking it.” The princess gasped, suddenly brought back to reality. She hadn't even realized she was currently in the midst of crushing her retainer's hand. She pulled away quickly, horrified by what she had done.

“Oh, my goodness... I'm so sorry!”

“Think nothing of it, my lady.” Gunther reached out, taking her hand yet again. “Now remember to keep time in your mind; repeating 'one-two-three' is fine, as long as you don't say it aloud...” The princess ducked her head, cheeks blazing. How many times was he going to remind her of that? She'd only done it twice... three times. Sighing, she reached up with her other hand, placing it on her partner's shoulder as he settled his on her back.

“This is awkward...”

“Yes, I... can imagine how uncomfortable such... ahem, close proximity must be--” Nerr looked up, utterly bemused by his hemming and hawing.

“What? I mean my arms. I'm not used to keeping my arms up for so long.” Gunther glanced at her for a moment, before looking away almost awkwardly. It must have been just as uncomfortable for him to crane his neck down so far to look at her. Even in the horrible heeled contraptions, she was still so short compared to him.

“Oh. Yes, it takes some getting used to. But surely it's no more difficult than wielding a sword?”

“I'd say it is.”

“Well, the sooner you learn this, the sooner we can get back to swordplay.”

It was a sad state of affairs when she was looking forward to getting beaten to a pulp rather than dancing with a handsome knight. As they began moving once more, Nerr made sure to keep track of the rhythm. There would be music playing at the fête itself, which was why she needed to make keeping time a second nature. One-two-three, one-two-three...  _ 'For the love of the gods, don't trip, you lumberjack...!' _ She yelled at herself mentally. Why was this so damn hard? Women were supposed to be graceful and elegant- why did she have to move like she was tottering about on two peg legs?! One-two-three, one-two-three... Camilla made it look so effortless... She just wanted to be as good as her sister. This was a mistake, she never should have hoped for more than she was meant. Her place was on the battlefield, not in some lavish hall, surrounded by opulence and elegance she would never be able to match. One-two-three, one-two-three... Her throat tightened painfully. She was just wasting her time.

“My lady, interesting as they may be, you should look at your partner rather than your feet.” Nerr stopped moving, still not looking up. “My lady?”

“...this is pointless. Let's just go to the courtyard and train. At least getting hit in the face is something I'm  _ good _ at...” She tried to pull her hand away from Gunther's but the older man tightened his grip, refusing to relinquish her fingers.

“I am certain I have no idea what you're talking about, Lady Nerr.”

“I'm bad at this!” She yelled at him, finally looking up and hating the hot prick of tears in her eyes. “It's been two weeks and I'm  _ still _ terrible! I  _ just _ figured out how to walk down stairs in these evil shoes, I still can't breathe when my stays are laced, and I can barely avoid trodding all over your feet while I'm wearing pants! How am I supposed to do this in a gown!? I can't; I  _ can't _ do this! Camilla and Leo and Xander and even Elise make it look like being a prim and polished royal is  _ easy _ , but it's  _ NOT!!” _ She pulled away from her retainer, stumbling over to the couch they had pushed out of the way and falling down onto it. She wrapped her arms around herself.

“I'm not like them...” She whispered miserably. “I train and study, but that's all I'm good for. If I showed my face in public, I'd do nothing but embarrass the royal family. Father must have known that. That's why he keeps me out here, where I can't bring shame to anyone but myself...” Nerr could not bring herself to look at Gunther as he approached, even when he slowly knelt before her and took her hands in his own.

“Nothing could be further from the truth, my lady. You seem to forget that your brothers and sisters have had a lifetime to practice such things. You have had less than a month, and you've already come so far. You are a lovely, charming princess, and anyone who would not agree is as blind as they are stupid.” Even though she was certain he was just placating her because it was his duty, Nerr could not help but cling to his words, looking at him askance.

“...you don't think I'm terrible?”

“You are quite far removed from terrible, my lady. I am very proud of the progress you have made. And I am certain that if you do not give up, you too will be proud of how far you have come.” Sniffling slightly, Nerr could not help but laugh.

“You're almost as bad as Xander, you know that, Gunther? I swear, you two write these speeches down and rehearse them in the mirror when you're alone.”

“Well, I can't speak for Prince Xander, but I keep them hidden around the citadel on little slips of paper.” With a slight grunt of effort, the knight climbed back to his feet, holding his hand out to the princess. “Now then. Let us continue where we left off.” Feeling a bit better, she placed her hand back in his and allowed him to lead her to the center of the room once more. “This time, keep your eyes on me, my lady.” Nerr was grateful the library was as dark as it was, for if she had any inkling Gunther could see how red her face was, she would have started looking at her feet again. Somehow, despite her initial terror and unease, she found herself  _ not _ tripping over anything or knocking anything over. It was almost... dare she say it? Fun. Perhaps it was simply because she was in the comfort of her own home, away from prying eyes, and she had the best partner she could have hoped for, but in that moment, the sparkling fête from her dreams seemed boring by comparison.

000

Nerr had almost been looking forward to the fête for a time, until the day of it came. Having to endure Camilla poking her scalp with pins while Flora seemed to go out of her way to lace her stays as tightly as possible made things considerably less enjoyable.

“I don't know-haa- if I should really-haa- go tonight. Jakob-haa- is sick-HAAH--”

“Nerr, would you please stop breathing so much; it's making it quite difficult to pin your hair up.” From where she now stood tying the laces of her mistress' shoes, Flora sniggered under her breath. Nerr would have kicked her if she hadn't been positive she would fall over and drive the dozens of sharp pins holding her hair in place into her skull. Camilla either didn't notice her irritation, or else, simply did not care. “What does it matter if the butler is sick? It's not as if he has sweating sickness- it's just a cold.”

“Besides, milady, the rest of us will be here to care for him should he need it.”

“But- haa- he was going to- haa- accompany me...”

A few days ago, when he had brought her dinner, Nerr had confessed to her retainer that, as much as she wanted to see the world outside the confines of the Northern Citadel, it... scared her. The mountains looked treacherous, and every time he came to visit, Leo always had  _ something _ to say about the bands of roving marauders prowling around Nohr. Her training would make quick work of some half-baked crook, but Xander had made it perfectly clear that she was not to bring a weapon with her. The fête was a peaceful gathering, and it would look bad if a member of the royal family showed up, prepared for battle. Jakob, sweet, dependable Jakob, immediately volunteered to accompany her. After all, he had reminded her; it was his duty as her retainer to remain at her side and ensure that no harm befell her. Even Xander had agreed that a retainer's presence would be acceptable... and then he got sick. A sniffle, which he had assured her was nothing, had turned into a full blown fever, and now, her security blanket was lying in bed in a cold sweat. Camilla clucked her tongue.

“Oh, you don't  _ need _ him, Nerr.  _ I'm _ going to escort you to and from the castle. You don't need to worry your pretty little head about anything.”

“That's not the point...” She muttered to herself. She knew her older sister was scarier than bandits could ever be, but she had been counting on the comforting presence of someone more... familiar... Straightening, Flora cracked her back slightly before returning to her typical posture.

“You know, Lady Nerr, you could always ask Sir Gunther to accompany you...” Camilla's eyes narrowed dangerously.

“That's quite unnecessary, Flora--” 

“Awmigods, you're right, Flora!! Xander said I could bring a retainer; he never said which one!” The older princess sputtered as Nerr tried to disentangle herself from her.

“Well, I'm certain he  _ meant _ Jakob--”

“But he didn't  _ say _ it had to be Jakob! Flora, you're a genius! Gunther!!” Picking up the long brocade skirts that trailed on the floor, Nerr half ran, half stumbled from her room, paying no mind to the fact that her hair was still half loose. Her main retainer's room was all the way at the end of the hall. He would either be there, or in Jakob's room the floor below, or in the stables. Fortunately, she was saved from having to run through the whole fortress in a heavy gown as the door she had just approached opened. Gunther opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came. It was just as well; Nerr could imagine that whatever he had to say was something along the lines of _“blah blah blah, running, blah blah blah, shreiking like a harpy, blah blah, untoward”._ “Gunther, will you come to the fête with me?” The knight remained silent for a moment longer, before closing his mouth and crossing his arms over his chest.

“No.”

“Why  _ nooooot? _ " She whined, heartbroken.

“It is not my place to attend balls and play at being bourgeoisie. My duty is to train and teach you, and that does not require me rubbing elbows with nobles.”

“B-but your duty is to be my retainer...”

“Indeed.”

“So I need you to retain me. Wherever I go. Are you  _ really _ going to let me go to the castle all by myself?” Gunther rolled his eyes.

“You will be with Princess Camilla.”

“So you'd let two defenseless women travel at night, in the mountains, all alone?”

“I'd be more concerned for anyone unlucky enough to run afoul of such 'defenseless' women... You will be fine, Lady Nerr.” He began closing his door once more, and in a moment of sheer desperation, Nerr stuck her foot in the door, noting that it hurt a whole lot less when she wore shoes than it normally did. She leaned against the door, not pulling it further open, but staring up at her retainer.

“Please, Gunther. I-- ...I'm… afraid. Camilla keeps going on about how big Krakenburg is, and how many people are going to be there, and... I know she's just trying to make me excited, but the thought of being around that many people, that many  _ strangers _ ...” She shuddered slightly. In all her life, Nerr had never been around more than eight or nine people at one time. ...she'd only ever known a grand total of ten other humans in all the world. The thought of being around ten times that many... that would fill the entire citadel...

“Lady Nerr...” She flinched as something brushed against her arm. She hadn't even realized that she was still shuddering. The sight of Gunther looking down at her with a pitying gaze was even worse than his cool disregard from earlier. He must have thought she was utterly pathetic. When she voiced her concerns out loud, she did, too... Swallowing, she forced herself to smile, to give a weak chuckle. 

“What am I saying? I-I think my nerves are getting to me. I'm just... worried about making a good impression, is all. Forget I said anything!” She moved to walk away, but the hand on her arm tightened its grip ever so slightly. She could have pulled away without even trying, but she stopped immediately. 

“...I would be honored to accompany you to the fête, my lady. If that is what you truly want.” It felt like the lump in her throat had dissolved a bit, and she nodded furiously. 

“I do. I really,  _ really _ do. Thank you  _ sooo _ much, Gunther.” Pulling his hand back, the knight nodded. 

“Very well. I suppose I should polish my armor a bit.” She frowned, bemused. 

“What are you talking about? Surely you don't intend to spar with the guests?” She asked only half in jest. Gunther smiled a bit, but it quickly faded. 

“Not this time. I fear I lack the proper attire needed for such an event. My armor is the nicest thing I own.” Nerr's confusion was replaced by vexation. 

“What nonsense is this? Who do you think you're lying to?” With more force than she'd have ever expected from herself, she forced the door open all the way, striding inside the knight's chambers as he sputtered haplessly. Less than half the size of her quarters, it only took a few steps for her to reach his armoire, considerably smaller than her own. Opening it, she moved aside the simple linen shirts and gambesons, and pulled out a coat hanger. The garments, both shirt and jerkin, that hung from it were of a considerably higher quality than the rest of his clothes, the border trimmed in a familiar style of silver flourish. “I  _ just _ made this for you!” Gunther seemed to shrink under the intensity of her annoyance. 

“I know, my lady, and I appreciate your gifts as always, but--” 

“But what? Is it not good enough? Do you doubt the quality of my work? It's fine! I've worn things I've sewn all the time!” Nerr could not hide the hurt in her voice. She didn't have the luxury of going out and buying gifts for the special days of those she loved, so she tried her hardest to make them things of equal value. Every year, her servants and retainers accepted her gifts graciously, but never wore them, claiming they were simply too...  _ nice _ for the dirty work of tending to the citadel. But... this  _ was _ a nice event, so what excuse was there now? Maybe they just hated her shoddy, backwater gifts but could not say as much to her face. Her fingers loosened their deathgrip on the clothes, before they could drop to the floor, a larger hand closed over her own. 

“Lady Nerr, you are a fine seamstress. I could doubt the quality of your work no more than I could doubt the existence of the moon.” The older man sighed, taking the shirt away from her. He stared at it, with an intensity she usually reserved for particularly deep philosophy. “This is just too...  _ much _ for someone like me. I can't imagine myself parading about in silks and satins like a proper gentleman...” There was a quietness, a melancholy in his voice that stung Nerrs' soul like a long needle. Fully expecting to be berated for her actions but not caring, she reached up, cupping Gunther's cheeks in both her hands to force him to look at her, the way he would do with her. 

“There is not a noble in all of Nohr that is more of a proper gentleman than you. Every man in Krakenburg tonight could learn many things from you.  _ I _ learned many things from you. So stand up straight, and march.” The way he smiled at her in that moment was enough to make her forget all her fears of the night to come. Knowing that she wasn't alone in them was only a sweet icing.

000000000000

Despite the lateness of the night, Nerr found herself entranced by the world just outside her door. It was true, there was nothing she was seeing now that she hadn't seen from her window, but there was no barrier between her and it now. The stars looked brighter; even the air smelled sweeter when there was no massive wall around her. As wonderful as it would have been to run free all the way to the castle, she knew she couldn't do so without messing up her dress or hair, and it would have been cruel to undo all of Camilla's hard work. Instead, she simply sighed with an utter contentment she'd not felt for quite some time, leaning against Gunther's back as the steady pace set by Caractacus rocked her gently. 

“Are you tired, Lady Nerr?” She could feel the knight's voice as much as she heard it, and she found herself very thankful she was behind him, ensuring no one was aware of how heated her cheeks became but her. She shook her head, before remembering that of course he couldn't see her. 

“N-no. Truth be told, I'm rather riled up. Like I've just guzzled a samovar of coffee. Heh... I worry I might never be able to sleep again after tonight...” Gunther chuckled quietly. 

“I doubt that's something you need to worry about. You'll spend the night dancing and charming every notable person in Nohr and wear yourself out so completely I'll have to drag you to your training in the morning.” 

The princess went rigid. She didn't appreciate the undertone of mirth in his voice. He was probably chomping at the bit at the possibility of physically dragging her from her bed the coming morning. A noise, like the faint warning yowl of a cat, cut through the mild air. Nerr looked up to catch her sister glowering down at her, her full lips twisted in annoyance. Even atop a mass of reanimated scales and teeth and wearing an expression that would give the Ancient Ones themselves pause, Camilla was every bit the paradigm of what a royal daughter should look like, the gusts kicked up by Theodorus' wings not daring to muss her piled high hair. 

Self-consciously, Nerr straightened up. The older princess was probably rolling her eyes to see her creasing her gown before she even reached the castle. Camilla pulled on her reins, directing her mount into a swooping dive that turned Nerrs' stomach just from looking at it. The lilac-haired woman didn't so much as bat an eye, coming up beside the riders. Every time the wyvern flapped, she felt as though it would knock her off the saddle. 

“Darling, don't you think you'd be more comfortable with me? After all, there's barely any space on that tiny saddle, and I'm sure Theodorus would have a much easier time with two passengers than that poor old horse.” 

“Caractacus isn't old.” She argued, regretting it even as she said it. Well... he was a  _ bit _ past his prime. And she wasn't as light as she once was. She had turned her sister's offer to ride with her down earlier based on purely selfish reasons (she  _ never _ got to ride with Gunther anymore). Swallowing, she leaned a bit, peering over the edge of the narrow path they rode on. Camilla flew over the sheer drop that led to the gorge below, a drop of hundreds if not thousands of feet- who knew what was down there? No one who was still alive, that was for sure. The younger princess quickly covered her mouth with one hand, the other desperately grabbing her retainer around the middle to ensure she didn't fall. The mere  _ thought _ of that abyss was enough to give her palpitations. 

“No! No no no no no, I don't want to ride with you!! I want to be on solid ground!” Camilla sighed quietly, but did not broach the subject further, aside to note that one day Nerr was going to need to learn to fly; it was as much a part of being a soldier as learning to ride. Thinking of yet another task Xander would eventually watch her fail at turned her stomach even worse than the fear of falling off the mountains. Strong fingers wrapped around the hand that wasn't desperately covering her mouth, their warmth reaching her even through the layers of leather and silk. 

“Do not worry yourself over such things, my little ladyship,” Rather than turn to face her, Gunther simply let the mild spring air carry his quiet words. “Tonight, you needn't think of studies or training. You are neither soldier nor politician. All you need to concern yourself with is being happy. There will be time to deal with everything else later.” Although it did little to help with the nausea roiling within her, his gentle reassurance soothed Nerrs' heart easily. 

“Yes... yes, you're right. Tonight, I will dance until dawn and let the devil take tomorrow!” After all, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. At least, for her. 

It took over an hour, but finally, the bailey of Castle Krakenburg came into view, its spires extending beyond the peaks of the cliff it was nestled within. Nerr had heard stories of her family namesake, but she was unprepared for the glory that came with seeing it with her own eyes. Sentry towers were interspersed along the circumference of not only the castle but its town as well, the capital of Windmire. She could see the lights from windows well off in the distance, so tiny they looked like stars come down to earth. Guards, wearing the standard blue and silver of infantrymen, bowed deeply as the trio dismounted, two young men coming from the western wall to take the reins of their mounts. Caractacus snapped at the unfamiliar equerry. 

“I'm sorry,” Nerr apologized to the man before Gunther had a chance to open his mouth. She reached up, gently rubbing the horses' neck, staring into his large, dark eyes. A sad smile tugged at her lips. “He's not used to strangers, either... He'll be good, won't you, Caractacus?” The courser lowered his head, blowing gently in her face. Her smile widened as the equerry took the reins, this time without incident. Camilla made an impressed noise. 

“My my, you certainly have a way with that beast.” 

“I suppose we're very similar...” The older princess reached out, tucking a few stray pieces of hair back into the hair piled atop her head, a slight smile tugging at her lips. 

“Well, hopefully we can rectify that. There's no reason for a princess to liken herself to an animal. In a matter of minutes, you will be a veritable socialite!” Taking her sister's hand, Camilla placed it on her elbow, leading the younger girl. For a moment, Nerr thought to protest- after all, wasn't it a gentleman who usually led a lady? But the sight of her sister smiling so widely put the thought for her head as she found herself smiling as well. 

Taking a quick peek over her shoulder, she noticed Gunther keeping a respectful distance behind her. That was right- Leo often said that none were to walk in front of royalty, that such blatant disrespect was intolerable. No one turned their back to the king or his children. She'd never given it any thought until this moment; all her life, she had followed behind her retainer, thus this shift in the balance of things made her feel ill at ease. Perhaps noting her discomfort, the knight smiled reassuringly at his liege. Nerr turned her gaze back to the paved walkway ahead of them, the fluttery feeling in her stomach making its way up to her head. 

She wasn't even in the castle yet and already she was out of her element. In a desperate bid to tamp down her nerves, the young princess began running her mouth, voicing every asinine question and comment that popped into her mind. How many guests were there, which provinces did they hail from, how clear the sky was. Silly nonsense topics both her sister and retainer graciously responded to. She appreciated them humoring her, for the journey even from the bailey's gates to those leading directly to the castle was a long one, a solid five minutes, and Nerr was certain that she'd have thrown up from sheer anxiety had she been forced to endure it in silence. 

The guards stationed at the barbican uncrossed their lances, bowing as the heavy wooden doors swung open, undoubtedly charmed to do so as she could see no human being strong enough to move the massive barrier. Stepping inside the castle proper, Nerr gasped loudly, too taken aback by the sight to care about propriety. Much like the Northern Citadel, Krakenburg was built into a dry moat, but as deep as the trench around her home was, it was no deeper than a puddle compared to the ravine she now stared into. Turrets and the spires of towers barely reached the ramparts that surrounded it, while hundreds, if not thousands of windows glowed from the lights within. A light tug on her hand urged her forward, but she was reluctant to draw away her attention. 

“Come along, darling. Trust me; the real spectacle is inside.” 

“You'd best watch your step, my lady. The pathways are more narrow than they seem. We wouldn't want you falling from one.” The thought of falling had never even occurred to Nerr. Perhaps it was because there was light; even in the darkest depths tiny little pinpricks were visible.  _ Someone _ must have been down there, unlike the gorges in the mountains where it was clear that life did not exist at the bottom. Swallowing, the princess looked back to her knight. 

“Does-- Does that happen often? Someone falling off the walkway?” Gunther chuckled lowly. 

“Of course- humans are creatures not particularly known for their balance. We fall off stairs all the time, do we not?” He was right, she supposed. Gods knew she had fallen both down  _ and _ up the spiral staircase at home more times than she was comfortable admitting. The thought of her foot giving in these damnable shoes and sending her careening into the abyss was a worrying one, but- as she reminded herself- she had made it down several sets of steps in them and had only stumbled once. Still, she gripped Camilla's arm tighter for good measure as they headed towards the keep. 

Winding stairways and bridges hung over endless gaps seemed a terribly inefficient way of getting into a castle, but neither of her companions complained, so Nerr kept her thoughts to herself. At least it would be equally as hard for thieves or assassins to find their targets. And, overly complex though it may have been, it was equally beautiful. Thick roots and vines snakes across the obsidian surface of the masonry, torches in their sconces casting warm light that danced across every nearby surface. 

As they drew closer, she could hear the buzz of people talking, music playing. It was so, so very faint, but knowing that she was only a few more steps away from the source of all the joyful clamour left her downright giddy. Finally, they reached the final door, the last barrier between her dreams and reality. As those too opened of their own accord, Nerr inhaled deeply, both to calm herself and steel herself as well for the work that lay ahead. Cramming a lifetime of memories into a single night would be no simple task, but gods above if it wasn't one she was looking forward to.

000

The halls of Krakenburg were akin to those of the Northern Citadel only in that they were empty at the moment. Everything here was massive, a scale Nerr couldn't have imagined outside of a fantasy novel. Columns so wide that five men joining hands couldn't wrap around them. Suits of armor that could only have been donned by giants lined the walls like sentinels. Pennants, yards long, hung from the rafters, the golden crest of House Krakenburg emblazoned on the violet backdrop. Just being here, standing in the place where her ancestors had stood for centuries, felt overwhelming. 

Tears prickled as Nerr felt her throat tighten. All her life, she'd dreamed of being here, of “coming home” from her quarantine in the secluded fortress. She longed for the day when she could get out of bed and see her siblings at  _ her _ leisure, rather than theirs. And it was finally here. Granted, this was just one day, just a single night, but it was a start. And by the gods, was she going to take advantage of it. Taking a step and immediately feeling overwhelmed, Nerr could not find her voice for a few seconds as she took in the view all around her, but she managed to work out a few words as her gaze landed back on her sister. 

“Where are the others? Leo and Xander and Elise?” 

“I'd assume they're in the great hall, rubbing elbows with the courtiers. At least, Xander is. I think it might be time for Elise to go to sleep soon.” 

“What? No! I've only just gotten here! I have to see her!” The younger princess lifted her long skirt, trotting a few unsteady steps down the hall before she stopped. “...I don't know where that is...” Camilla tittered, but before she could saunter over to where Nerr stood, Gunther had already reached her side. 

“Unless they've made unnecessary renovations in the last fourteen years, I can escort you there, my lady.” He offered her his arm, and the younger girl felt her stomach turn several flips, each more uncomfortable than the last. Laughing breathlessly, weakly, she placed her hand on his forearm. She was barely touching him, her hand hovering just over the linen of his sleeve. Even through the layers of fabric, she could feel warmth radiating from him... or maybe that was her own warmth. Given how flushed she knew she was, it wouldn't be surprising. A loud, irritated huff was all the warning she had before Camilla swooped upon her, her lips pressed into a thin line. 

“ _ I'll _ take you there, Nerr. Gunther hasn't been in the castle in ages, and the last thing we need is you getting lost.” Normally, Nerr would have been touched by her sister's concern, but this time, there was just a  _ bit _ too much animosity underlying her tone. Biting her lip, the teal-haired girl lowered her hand so that she had actually taken her retainer's arm. 

“It's fine, sister. We're all still going together, after all. Besides; I've been leaning on you since we got here. If I hold your arm any longer, I'll leave a mark.” It was clear the older woman wanted to argue the point, but they had better things to do than stand about engaging in petty arguments. 

Given the confidence with which he navigated the halls, it was difficult to believe it had been well over a decade since Gunther had lived in the castle. He pointed out paintings and statues when they passed, explaining to his ladyship that they depicted one of the first battles fought for the unification of the Dusk Dragon's lands, or one of her ancestors who had been canonized. It was almost like a history lesson, only she wasn't nearly comatose from boredom. As delighted as Nerr was from learning of the rich tapestry that was her heritage, she was  _ more _ pleased to be walking so closely with her infatuation. He was walking slower than usual to allow her to keep pace; a blessing with these horrid bindings on her feet as even bare footed, she could never match his long strides. Allowing her gaze to wander from the expansive hall to her retainers' face, her heart fluttered happily. He looked so... at ease. 

Donning a finely tailored doublet of black velvet (she had done an exceptionally good job on the seams this time, she noted proudly), Nerr was certain he would blend in effortlessly with a group of nobles, perhaps aside from being much more handsome. In fact, if she allowed herself a flight of fancy, it wouldn't be too hard to believe that, to a stranger, perhaps, they might seem a matched pair. Not a princess and her retainer, but... a woman and a man. A happily betrothed couple... 

“My lady?” A chill ran down her spine as she noticed Gunther looking at her, his brows furrowed more than usual. Gods no, she hadn't been talking to herself again, had she? 

“Y-yes?” 

“You seem out of breath. Have I set too fast a pace?” Oh. Oh, that was it. Nerr laughed, breathless indeed. Her stays were rigid against her ribs as she chuffed. 

“No. No, I'm fine. Just... missing my old clothes.” For a moment, the knight seemed unconvinced, but his expression quickly returned to normal. Well, more normal than it had been. 

“Perhaps Flora should have accompanied us as well. With a train that long, it's little wonder you can scarcely breathe. A simpler gown might have been more appropriate.” 

“Blasphemy!” Camilla chided, her tone defensive. “This is my darling Nerrs' societal debut! All of Nohr needs to know that she outshines them. Or would you deny a rose its bloom?” 

“Oh, course not, Lady Camilla,” Gunther answered easily. “But my ladyship needs no outlandish fashion to accomplish that goal. She outshines the stars themselves with but a smile.” 

More than anything at that moment, Nerr wished to hide her face, preferably by sticking it in the ground. She must have been beet red- if Flora were there, she would die laughing. Fortunately, the gods seemed to take pity on her, convincing her lilac-haired companions that her embarrassment came solely from the flattery itself rather than the flatterer. 

Camilla cooed that she was “absolutely precious”, pinching her cheek, a gesture she was actually grateful for this one time alone. The sharp pain and indignation calmed her pounding heart. The din of humanity had grown louder still, the sounds echoing off the high vaulted arches. When she closed her eyes, everything grew louder but she could make out individual noises more easily. At least, individual enough to put into groups. There was the talking group, the laughing group, the music group-  _ that _ was the one she looked forward to the most. 

Rounding one last corner, Nerr was met with a sight she was certain would be burned into her very heart. The doors were open, a lush crimson carpet leading through them into the chamber. Dozens of people filled every foot of space, the jewel tones of their clothes coming together like splotches of paint on a canvas, each stunning on its own but together forming a breathtaking landscape the likes of which she'd never seen before. At one end of the room, a chamber orchestra played a soothing strain to which those in the center twirled in time. At the other, tables piled high with dishes were the gathering spot for those that did not care to dance and rather, milled about talking (about gossip or politics, she wondered). It was beautiful, it was overwhelming.  It was everything she had dreamed of and thensome. The world blurred before her as her cheeks grew damp. 

"Nerr? Sweetling, what's wrong? Is it too much?" Camilla's concerned fluster was barely audible over the cacophony. She shook her head, feeling her tears drip onto her decolletage before she could wipe them away. 

"No. It's just enough. It's perfect…" Hardly convinced, the elder princess pulled a handkerchief from the front of her dress, lightly dabbing at her sister's cheeks. 

"If you don't want to go in yet, we can wait out in one of the antechambers for a while." 

"Camilla, I don't--" 

"There she is! Nerr!!" Even the clamor of dozens of people could not drown out Elises' voice, ringing over them like a bell and drawing the attention of everyone within earshot to the youngest princess. 

She paid no mind to the staring eyes, pushing her way through the crowd with far more practiced ease than a princess ought to have. She could twist and hop in her long pink silks without missing a step. If Nerr tried anything half as bold, she'd end up a pile of broken bones. Finally freeing herself, Elise ran at full speed at her waiting sisters, barreling into Nerrs' gut with enough force to knock her back. Teetering on her high and narrow heels, she would have fallen over had Gunther not braced her with an arm. Elise either didn't notice, or simply didn't care, how close both of them had come to ending up on the floor. 

"You're here! You came! I was starting to worry that you weren't going to, but you did, and you're here now!!" 

"Of course I am. Nothing in the world could stop me coming, dearest." Nerrs' voice was little more than a whisper, her throat as frozen as the rest of her as she realized just how many eyes were trained on her. 

Dozens-- no.  _ Hundreds _ , maybe. Some overly wide, some sunken deep into folds of fat, some too close together, others too far apart, but all focused solely on her. She was not like them. She was some strange creature that had crawled out from under a rock, pale and blind and repulsive in how unnatural it seemed to the world at large. Her heart was picking up a frantic beat as the muscles in her thighs jumped, desperate to run regardless of direction. 

"Elise," A deep voice cut through the ringing in her ears. Eyes slowly looked away as the crowd parted, everyone falling to one side or the other to make room for the crown prince. He was like a beacon, a solitary star shining in the darkness and setting her soul at ease. Elise pressed herself harder against her sister, as though she could somehow melt into the heavy skirts and disappear. "What have I told you about yelling indoors?" 

"It's unbecoming of a proper lady…" 

"And yet, you continue to do so." 

"But…!" She turned, staring entreatingly at her brother. "But Nerr is here!" 

"I am aware of that, Elise, but it is not your duty to announce everyone who walks through the door." He sighed, the stern crease in his brow softening a bit. "However, your excitement is understandable, so I will let you go with a warning this time, sister. But!" The smile that had been building on the younger girls' face froze as Xander's stern frown returned. "You will remain quiet for the rest of the night. If I hear you from more than ten feet away, you are going straight to bed, Elise." 

"But it's a party!!" She whined. 

"Exactly. There is no reason I should be able to hear you over everyone else." The familiarity of bickering seemed to loosen Nerrs' throat, and she pulled Elise closer to her. 

"Oh, Xander, must you be such a wet blanket? If it were up to you, every party would just be people standing at arm's length in complete silence." 

"That would certainly make things easier…" he intoned, but his expression was kindly, a warm smile making the corners of his eyes crease. He looked so handsome, his violet doublet matching his eyes, the gold cloth shimmering through the slashed sleeves the same as the spun gold of his hair. "I am glad to see you've made it safely, little princess. We have all been eagerly awaiting your appearance." 

"Speaking of 'all', I see  _ someone _ hasn't come forth to greet me. Where is my favorite pompous ass?" Xander's smile dimmed more than a little. 

"I suppose he's still with Father. Leo has always preferred discussing taxation to gossip, and I fear that won't make him very popular with his peers." 

"Only because they fear those taxes might be applied to them. If he made it clear their vaults would remain untouched, I'm certain Prince Leo would be drowning in friends." 

Nerr was uncertain what she found so funny- the dry disdain in Gunther's voice, or the idea of Leo being popular with  _ anyone _ . Regardless, she muffled her sniggers with her hand. Xander was not as amused as she was, his eyes narrowing as he took in the knight standing behind her. 

"I thought I told you that your manservant could accompany you, Jakob." 

"You said my retainer could accompany me. And Jakob is sick; I couldn't very well drag him out wracked with chills." 

"You don't need an escort in the castle, Nerr." 

"But I _wanted_ one." She argued. Gunther took a step back and bowed to the prince. 

"It is an honor to be back in Krakenburg, sire. I am only here to accompany my lady to and from the castle. I assure you, you will not even remember that I am here." 

"I find that unlikely…" Xander muttered under his breath, but his expression shifted back to normal regardless. "None of that matters now. Come, Nerr; we must present you to father." Her stomach dropped so suddenly it left her feeling lightheaded. She had to grip Elise's shoulder to steady herself. 

"Father? Wh-why? What did I do wrong?" The prince frowned, looking utterly bemused. 

"Nothing. It isn't a punishment, little princess- father simply wants to see you. It has been years since he's been able to visit the Citadel, if memory serves." 

Nearly a decade, but not nearly long enough to forget the cold fury in the king's eyes when she had displeased him.  _ 'No… I don't want to- I'll make him mad again…!' _ Her knees had locked up, and she was certain her hands were shaking. 

"Ow! Nerr, you're pinching me!" Elise squirmed from out of her grasp, grabbing her hands. "C'mon! We'll go see father, and then we'll dance, okay? Okay? We have to dance!!" She wanted to say yes. She wanted to smile and assure her sister that of course they would dance, but she could not move a single muscle. A large hand settled on her shoulder as a quiet whisper, just loud enough for her to hear, filled her ear. 

"Be brave, my lady. He won't do anything with so many people around." She wanted to tell Gunther he was wrong, the king could do as he pleased, but her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. So she forced herself to nod, to believe that he knew what he was talking about, and to let Elise drag her into the ballroom. 

Almost as soon as she stepped over the threshold, the temperature seemed to rise enough that she could feel the difference immediately. The chilled air of spring had prompted her to include sleeves on her dress, but being surrounded by people in an oven of flesh was making her regret that decision. She had never been so…  _ aware _ of other people before. 

The citadel was so large and there were so few of them living there that she had never been in close proximity to another person without making the express choice to be. Suddenly, she couldn't move a single limb without it touching someone else. Every step, every shift, every breath found her coming into contact with yet another body, even as they moved to make room for the royal family. 

The perfumes and powders and pomades they slathered themselves in only hung over the stench of sweat and grease and all manner of other human smells she didn't want to decipher, the scent of wine and roasted meat and spices growing nauseating in turn. A pain began to spread from Nerr's temples as the heat and smells pressed in on her, and when they finally walked into a clearing, she was so relieved to get away from the crush of people that she almost didn't care that said clearing held her father at its center. 

Xander's warning to her, that people would be uneasy if the royal family looked prepared for battle, did not apply to the king. From foot to throat, his plate shone like obsidian, the ermine cloak hooked to his pauldrons dragging on the floor. The snowy white fur matched his hair and beard. He certainly looked regal, even donning full armor, but not at all in the way his son did. If Xander were a wyvern, King Garon was a dragon of old, inspiring as much fear as he did awe. None of her siblings had the same reverent apprehension that she did. Leo stood beside the king, speaking to him as easily as she spoke to Xander, and Elise hopped up to him eagerly, dragging Nerr along for the ride. 

"Father! Father! Look who I brought!!" The king affixed his youngest child with a warm look, a look that chilled instantly as soon as his gaze fell on Nerr. She, alone of all his still-living children, had inherited his crimson eyes, but when those eyes stared deep into her soul, she felt as though she were a stranger. Wanting nothing more than to crawl under a rock, the middle princess forced herself to stand up straight.  _ Be brave... _ She dipped into a low curtsey, keeping her gaze averted respectfully. She would not speak until spoken to. She would not risk his ire. 

"Rise, Nerr." It had been so long since she'd heard his voice that she almost didn't recognize it. But who else would have such a deep tone that seemed to shake her very bones? His gaze was still cool, but he wasn't glaring at her as he had done years ago, so she allowed herself to stare at a spot beyond his right ear. "How long has it been since I have seen you, daughter?" She swallowed hard. 

"Nine years, my lord." 

"I would have thought longer. You look so unlike the sniveling child I remember that I scarcely recognized you." It took all her strength to not start sniveling then and there. 

"I have dedicated myself since that time to becoming a daughter you can be proud of, father." 

"Xander has told me of your aptitude in combat. In a year or so, you may be strong enough to leave the citadel," Her heart swelled, but as if sensing her growing hope, the king continued, his voice as hard as the stone behind him. "But all the strength in the world will matter not if you cannot navigate life in the castle. I will be using tonight as a judge of your character, Nerr, to see if you are actually worthy of the Krakenburg name." She prayed to the gods above that her smile didn't look as forced as it felt as she curtseyed again. 

"I shan't disappoint you, father." 

"We will see. I must speak to these meddlesome ants now, but do not think that I cannot see you, Nerr." He turned on his heel, his cloak dragging behind him as he disappeared into the crowd. Despite his warning, the moment she could no longer see the stark white of his hair, Nerr let herself slump back, only barely being caught by Camilla. 

"Oh, gods… is it over? Am I dead? I'm pretty sure I died and this is hell..." Elise giggled, but Leo sucked his teeth in annoyance. Even though he was not yet sixteen, the second prince acted as though he were an old man, exasperated with everyone who dared not be as mature as he thought he was. 

"Sometimes I wonder what troupe we got you from, sister- only an actor could be half as dramatic as you." 

"Leo," Xander snapped, his voice unusually harsh. "That is  _ not _ something to joke about in such company." Nerr understood their brother's annoyance. He alone remained of the king's legitimate children. While they all shared the same father, every one of them had been born of a different mother, and some with… less than respectable backgrounds. Nerr knew that her mother had died on the birthing bed, but had been told no more. The idea of having a pretty actress or singer for a mother didn't shame her, but even she knew that such a lowly bloodline would set tongues waggling. She laid a hand on her elder brothers' arm. 

"Save your anger, brother; you know he can't help it," she locked eyes with Leo, keeping her tone low enough that only they could hear. "We know his mother was an artisan, since the only way he could be so full of shit is if he was sculpted from it." Elises' sniggers turned to full blown laughter as the young boy's face grew tomato red, flushing all the way to his ears as he sputtered indignantly. 

"Oh, my, my, such foul language from such refined lips…" A voice she had never heard before grew louder as all of her siblings went stiff, their faces all conveying differing levels of annoyance. A man in dark maroon robes slithered through the crowd, the heavy gold chains around his neck and hips jingling with every step. He stopped before the royal family, a smirk tugging at his painted lips. "One must wonder where she learned it from." Nerr gaped at him, utterly bemused. Who would have the gall to speak to a princess in such a manner? 

"Excuse you, I don't believe you know who you are addressing." A muscle jumped in his pallid cheek, but the strange man only smiled wider. 

"Oh, but I do. I have heard  _ so _ much about you, Princess Nerr. Allow me to be the first to properly welcome you back…  _ home _ ." He bowed, inasmuch as a tip of the head and slight jerk could be considered a bow. Nerr turned to her siblings, wondering if they were seeing the same thing she was. 

"Xander, Camilla; who is this?" 

"This would be Count Iago." Camilla's lip pulled into a sneer as she spoke his name. The man straightened, brushing a lock of long black hair from his face. Half of it was concealed with a gilded porcelain mask, but Nerr was certain she wouldn't find that half anymore pleasant than the half she could see. 

"You sell my talents short, milady. I am His Majesty's retainer and foremost advisor. I doubt there is a soul he depends on as much as myself." Nerr felt a sneer tugging at her own lips. If this Iago crowed any harder, he'd grow a beak. 

"Why have I never heard of you, then?" His face twisted as though he had tasted a lemon, but that false smile reappeared on his lips with unnerving speed. 

"I suppose no one wants to trouble you with the king's business. After all, what good would it do to worry you about things that don't concern you?" 

"You will not speak to my sister in such a manner, Iago." Xander's voice was almost as hard as his father's had been. The count shrank back from him, but there was no remorse in his tone or posture. 

"My most sincere apologies, sire. I intended no disrespect. I only meant that, with the princess living so far away, she can hardly be expected to deal with Nohr's issues with the same capability the royal family does." Every word he spoke stung sharper than the last, his oily voice only rubbing salt into the wounds.  _ Princess _ , he sneered. She was no princess, not to him… and most likely, not to any of the other nobles surrounding her. But she would not let such a lowly man realize that he had affected her. Nerr stood straighter, adjusting her sneer into a demure smile. 

"My lord does have the right of it." 

"What?" 

"Sister, what are you saying?" She gave Xander's arm a light pat, calming him. 

"I am but a young girl who knows little in the way of politics, but I like to believe that my knowledge of battle makes up for that in part." Iago's visible brow furrowed in confusion. 

"What are you on about?" Nerr approached him, still smiling as sweetly as Camilla did. 

"You may find me lacking at court, Count Iago, but I believe you'd find me adequate in the training yard. It would be so much easier than having a duel in front of all these people." If it was possible for stark white to go paler, Iago's face showed that hue. 

"D-duel? What do you--" 

"I am a young girl who knows little in the way of politics, but it is my knowledge that the royal family rewards blatant disrespect with imprisonment. I, of course, would  _ never _ advocate for such a barbaric practice. No, I feel disagreements are best worked out with steel." She took a step closer, grateful for the first time that she wore such silly shoes, as they made her just tall enough to stare deep into the empty cavern that was the count's eye. "I do hope your blade is as sharp as your wit, my lord. It would grieve me to learn that my father's retainer can only defend his honor by slinging back-handed insults at children." She could see the vein in his temple throbbing as his mouth worked silently. 

"That is a splendid idea, little princess," Xander moved to stand behind her. "A good spar is an excellent way to get to know one another. But I'm afraid you'll have to return to the citadel before a duel can be arranged." The count's entire body sagged in relief as he smiled widely. 

"Yes… yes, and I'm afraid that my duties for his majesty keep me too busy to journey up north to pay you a visit. Goodness, what a shame--" 

"So I will have to duel in your place, sister." The grin slipped from Iago's face faster than water from a greased pan. 

"...what?" 

"Nerr is my sister, after all, and a princess of Nohr. A slight against her honor is a slight against my own. You understand of course, Iago." 

"I… I…" He swallowed. "Y-yes… of course, sire. I just… I didn't… uh… I-I believe I hear His Majesty calling for me." Before anyone could call his bluff, the pale man slipped away, nearly stumbling on the hem of his robes in his haste. Nerr fought the urge to gag. 

"Is he here often?" 

"He's one of the courtiers who live here," Leo's voice was laced with disgust. "Whatever house he came from must not want him, since he's always hovering over father's shoulder like a vulture." 

"In that case, I don't think I want to live here anymore…" 

"Nooo!!" Elise whined, taking Nerr's hand in both of hers. "Don't say that!!  _ I _ want you to live here! Every time we see Iago, we can run away, okay?" A smile, a sincere one, tugged at Nerr's lips as she squeezed her sister's hand. 

"Okay. But first, we have to dance." The way the young girls' eyes lit up all but chased the memory of that horrible encounter away.

000

For a few sweet hours, the fête was everything Nerr had dreamed it would be. Dancing with Elise mostly consisted of spinning the younger girl around, but she was grateful no one would be criticising her steps. She knew all the songs the musicians play,  _ Ondine's Lament, _ and  _ The Red-Rose Queen, _ and  _ Golden Moon, Silver Stars _ . Gunther had told her that in Cyrkensia, there would be nearly a hundred players performing each song, dozens of flautists and cellists and harpists. 

There were only about a dozen musicians total in the ballroom, but they played well enough that she was certain they could compare to the masters in Nestra. Perhaps they  _ were _ from Nestra. Oh, how she longed to go over and ask, but even a fool would know not to disturb a performer at their art. That was why she kept her lips sealed when the illusionist that was brought in made a show of turning a cask of wine to fire and then freezing those flames. 

She would have cheered aloud, but the nobles around her were silent, only sparing the minimal applause when they could bother to tear their attention away from one another. Nerr, at least, made sure her own applause was genuine and enthusiastic, unable to keep back a gasp as the mottleyed performer cracked apart the frozen flames, freeing a flock of white birds from the ice. 

"That's amazing!" She whispered to her siblings. "How did he keep them from freezing?" 

"They're not real, Nerr," Leo drawled, barely paying attention to the show. "It's just an illusion. Any idiot with the most basic understanding of magic could do the same thing." 

"You sound jealous." 

_ "Jealous? _ Of  _ parlor tricks?! _ I could bring this whole castle down around your stupid ears, Nerr!" 

"Yawn. Color me unimpressed, baby brother. Oooh!" She pointed at the makeshift stage, where the illusionist had formed a great lion of magenta flames. "Look! Are real lions that big?" 

"They can actually be quite a bit larger," Xander informed her. Tearing her eyes away from the show, Nerr tilted her head back to look at her brother. He smiled at her. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, little princess, but you can't spend all night off in the corner." 

"I wasn't planning to…" She protested weakly. "In fact, I was just about to go and dance." It wasn't a lie. The musicians had just begun playing  _ Guinivere _ , and silly as it was, the song of hopeful young love (as well as the three glasses of sweet wine) had given her the courage to approach her retainer. 

Gunther had chosen a spot against the wall to keep vigil. True to his word, no one seemed to notice him, passing by without so much as a glance in the knight's direction. Only Nerr found her eyes constantly sliding back, just to make sure he was still there, she told herself. He always was, giving her a reassuring smile whenever their eyes met. He didn't notice her gaze this time, his eyes closed as he silently mouthed the lyrics of the song,  _ There once was a maiden, charming and fair, with emeralds for eyes and gold in her hair… _ She had suffered through his vocal rendition once. Hopefully, he would remain silent on the dance floor. Before she could even take a step, however, Xander wrapped an arm around her shoulders and began leading her in the opposite direction. 

"Wonderful.  _ Guinivere _ is a simple enough song to start with. I don't think we'll have to worry about messing up those steps." 

" 'We'?" She frowned at her brother. "I don't think I'm quite ready to dance with Nohr's heir…" Xander chuckled slightly. 

"No, I don't have time to dance yet, sister. I had to see Elise off to bed, and there are still several dignitaries I must greet. You'll be dancing with Viscount Hache." 

_ "Whom?"  _

"His father, Edmond Hache, is the Duke of Whiteharbor, one of the largest ports outside of Dia and Nestra." Nerr felt her lips twist in displeasure. Oh, so it was someone important. She had been hoping this Hache was some minor noble she could brush off, but given how long Nohr's coastline was, their harbors were of great importance. She swallowed the sigh that had already been building in her lungs. 

"Alright. I suppose I can spare a few dances for a good cause. I hope you remember that the most I know of the southlands is that they're near the sea." The older man didn't seem upset by this revelation. 

"You needn't rattle off geographical facts, Nerr. Just speak normally. Ah, Viscount. I was beginning to worry that you had grown tired of waiting." 

Xander had stopped before a man so unassuming that Nerr would not have noticed him at all left to her own devices. He must have been a decade older than the prince, but he looked like an overgrown child, his mousy hair cut most unflatteringly and providing a poor frame for murky eyes. A cloth of gold doublet proved an ill match for his blotchy complexion. However, unlike the last noble she'd met, this Hache bowed respectfully low, and his voice was hardly as grating as Iago's had been. 

"Of course not, sire. I would have stood here until the Hoshidan sun passed overhead, for this is a once in a lifetime opportunity." 

"I should hope this opportunity arises far more in the future, my lord. May I present to you my dear sister, Nerr Von Krakenburg?" It took a light nudge to the ribs to remind her to curtsey. 

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Hache." 

"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you," He bowed again, this time to her, taking her hand and kissing the backs of her fingers before she could think to pull away. Even through her gloves, she felt her skin crawl. "The rumors have always said that His Majesty's second daughter is an unparalleled beauty, but those rumors have done you no justice." She knew he was simply being polite, but his words still made her uncomfortable. Nevertheless, Nerr kept her smile firmly in place. 

"You flatter me, my lord." 

"Perhaps my flattery might earn me a dance?" She longed to say no, but she could not make her brother a liar, so she wordlessly nodded and placed her hand into this stranger's. 

Dancing between a dozen other people was in no way similar to dancing in the citadel's library. Every other beat, it seemed someone was bumping into her and knocking her against the viscount. Fortunately, he took everything in stride. Nerr had been worried that her secluded life would make conversation difficult- she rarely learned of recent events until they were long past "recent"- but she quickly learned that the easiest way to maintain the appearance of conversation was to just let the man talk about himself. 

She had asked if Whiteharbor was pretty this time of year, and he had launched into a spiel about the fishing galleys he was buying with a portion of the taxes his father took in. On and on he rambled, about how he was going to triple his estates' revenue in a year, and all Nerr had to do was hum in agreement or throw out an occasional "Fascinating" while counting out her steps in her head. 

It could hardly be called unpleasant, but it certainly was boring, and the young princess was exceedling grateful when the song came to an end and she spotted Xander waiting for her. Hopefully, he had only seen her perform her duty, and hadn't heard how inattentive she actually was. Hache's face fell considerably when he noticed the prince. 

"Oh, Prince Xander. I do hope you aren't here to steal away your sister quite yet. I had hoped I could keep her for another dance?" 

"Alas, as certain as I am that Nerr would enjoy nothing more, if allowed such a thing, the other nobles might accuse me of favoritism." He offered Nerr his hand, and she took it eagerly. Perhaps too eagerly, if his frown was anything to go by. Trying not to groan, she turned back to the viscount. 

"I will ensure that I save another dance especially for you, milord." She lied. It was enough to placate him, and he went on his way looking for another partner while Nerr fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Thank goodness that's over. My brain is about to leak out of my ears." 

"It would do you well to actually learn to  _ listen _ to what is being said to you, little princess. Oftentimes, nobles let valuable information slip into the fluff they prattle on about." She didn't bother biting back her groan this time. 

"I  _ danced _ with him. I didn't even want to do  _ that _ . I came here to have fun, so I'm going to need you to get all the way off my back, Xander." She began making her way to the wall where she could just make out Gunther's pale hair, when a firm hand closed over her elbow. 

"The night is still young. You can have fun later, Nerr. You are a princess of Nohr, and you have a duty you must fulfil, whether or not you enjoy it." Whining far louder than she should have, the young girl let her brother drag her to another corner of the dance floor as the music changed again. 

The lord he led her to this time, one Arthor Varley of Macarath, was not nearly as unnoticeable as her last partner. He must have been around Gunther's age, but it baffled the mind that a man could be so unlike her knight. He was barely taller than she was, though three times as wide, and it seemed that most of the hair from his head had migrated to his many chins. All the same, Nerr smiled and curtseyed and let him take her hand, trying her hardest not to vomit as she felt his sweat through her glove. 

The only saving grace was that Lord Varley too was perfectly content to praise his own virtues at length. He owned nearly a dozen manses all across Nohr, and the king had visited each of them. Two wives had only given him three children, hardly enough to take care of all of his affairs once he was gone. Nerr was sorely tempted to remind him that her own brother would soon have an entire kingdom to take care of, so surely surely three children could deal with a handful of cottages, but she kept her mouth shut, hoping her expression properly conveyed sympathy. 

She kept her sanity intact by looking for a familiar head of lilac each time they turned. If the lord had been a taller man, she would have had to conspicuously look around him, but as it was, she could see over his head well enough. She just had to make it to the end of this song- then, with any luck, she could slip past Xander and-- son of a bitch! There he was, already waiting for her with a look of disapproval set firmly in his brow. Anywhere else, she would have thrown a rude hand gesture his way, but both her hands were being marinated in noble sweat at the moment. She would throw those gloves away the moment the fête ended. 

Unfortunately, it seemed that ending would never come. Despite each song lasting minutes at a time- she  _ knew _ they lasted minutes, she had  _ played _ most of them!- the hours simply would not pass. At the end of every song, Xander would swoop in and pull her over to some new noble he had already lined up. Was he doing this for the rest of their siblings as well, arranging dances for Camilla and Leo as soon as he pawned her off, or did he trust them to find their own partners? It was becoming intolerable. 

There were large glass doors that lead out to several balconies, but the deep night sky of Nohr looked just the same now as it had when she first set out to Krakenburg. Every time she asked her brother what time it was, he would give her the same reply- "early enough", and she didn't even want to think of the offence that would be taken if she dared ask her partner how long it had been. So Nerr was trapped in limbo, growing ever more exhausted as time around her stood still. 

The faces and bodies in front of her were beginning to blur together, helped in no small part by the ache in her belly and ribs as her stays limited any attempt to stretch or shift into a more comfortable position. A sharp pain in her big toe nearly caused her to fall onto her current partner (Hamish? Hawson? Something with an "H"). 

"Lady Nerr? Princess? Are you alright?" She was fairly certain this one was the son of an Earl to the west, but she had been more interested in knowing how a person could speak with so many teeth crammed into their mouth. Not well was the answer, as all his words were muffled and she had to strain more than usual to hear him. Nerr had begun to shake her head when she realized they were practically in the center of the floor, surrounded on all sides by people, and not a crown prince in sight. She would have argued herself out of the idea, but the pain and heat and general annoyance was wearing on her last nerve. 

"Actually, milord, I feel a bit lightheaded… If it would not be too great of a hassle, could you perhaps bring me something to drink?" The boy, hardly older than her, nodded enthusiastically. 

"Of course, princess. Wait right here!" 

"I will." She waited, of course, waited until the gaudy fuchsia samite half-cloak he wore vanished into the crowd. 

As soon as he was gone, Nerr ducked between pairs of dancers, trying to move as quickly as she could while limping. Freedom was just up ahead, and the closed latch on those doors would not stop her. All her jiggling resulted in a snap that certainly would have drawn unwanted attention to her had the music not been swelling. Slipping onto the balcony, Nerr took her first deep breath in what felt like hours. Well, as deep as she could manage. Her ribs were on fire, and she could feel the sweat running down her neck. 

Quickly tugging off her gloves, she tossed them down, splaying her hands out on the stone banister. She wanted nothing more than to lean down, but she couldn't. She couldn't enjoy the music, or the entertainment, or the food. Hells, the only dance she'd enjoyed had been with Elise! She couldn't even  _ stand _ comfortably! If she had stayed in the citadel tonight and had Xander simply write what had happened, would it be nearly as unpleasant, or would he leave all of the "duties" out, fooling her into believing the event was more enjoyable than it truly was? 

How many other things had he embellished or omitted? Why couldn't this just be  _ fun _ , just once, for one night, for one  _ hour? _ Angry, bitter tears burned Nerr's eyes and throat, and she dug her fingers harder into the stone. The door creaked open behind her, and she bit her lip until it hurt. If she let herself speak, she'd end up cursing out whoever dared follow her, and to say what was on her tongue to either Xander or Lord H would undoubtedly result in her father completely disowning her. 

"These doors are supposed to remain locked during balls. Nohr's nobility is lucky that my lady is not an assassin." Sniffling, Nerr wiped her eyes on her sleeve, hating that she could still smell the dozens of perfumes of the people she had been pressed against on her own clothes. 

"It  _ was _ locked. I might have maybe broken the lock…" 

"His Majesty should invest in better locksmiths, then." She was so used to the sound of his armor that it almost felt wrong to not hear it clanking as Gunther closed the doors back and approached her. "What's wrong, my lady?" Straightening her expression, she turned to face her retainer. 

"Nothing. I just needed a bit of fresh air, I suppose." 

"It is rather stuffy in there, isn't it? I'd forgotten how unpleasant balls in Krakenburg are." The old knight linked his hands behind his back, looking out past the bailey, towards the mountains. She didn't know which direction north was from here. "I imagine they must be doubly unpleasant in a lady's finery. Lady Camilla seemed to forget that new shoes are prone to cause horrible blisters." He glanced down at the princess. "Perhaps that was why you were limping away?" Even though his tone was gentle, Nerr could not help but wince. 

"How did you even see me? I was in the middle of a crowd of people." 

"There is no crowd so large that I cannot immediately spot my ladyship. It is my duty to watch over you, after all." With a quiet grunt, Gunther knelt before her. "If I may?" She flushed darkly. 

"I can take off my own shoes." 

"Can you, though?" He asked with a raised brow. Grumbling under her breath, Nerr lifted her skirt, trying not to think about how awkward it was that her retainer was partially undressing her. He had both dressed and undressed her as a child, and had seen much more than her bare feet, but this somehow felt infinitely more uncomfortable. At least, it did until her feet were finally free. Just being able to stretch her toes was almost enough to make her weep with relief. The knight made a "tsk"ing noise, pulling a kerchief from his pocket. 

"Honestly, I can't tell if this is willful negligence or simple ignorance. One would hope Lady Camilla would know that you are not her, and are in no way accustomed to such shoes." He tied the plain gray square around her throbbing toes. "At the very least, this should mop up the blood." 

"Blood?!" She started. "No! I don't want to bleed on your things!" 

"I would rather throw out a handkerchief than have you get sick from an open, dirty wound, my lady. Surely you realize your well being is more important than such silly things?" He had to grab hold of the railing to pull himself back up, giving Nerr a chance to hide her burning cheeks. 

"It's not silly… And besides, you know I hardly ever get sick." 

"I would rather not take the chance, my lady. Especially with you already looking like you're a moment away from keeling over. Do you need something to drink? Eat?" 

"No, I just need five gods damned seconds to  _ breathe!" _ She snapped far louder than she had ever intended to. Horror and revulsion filled her, and it was all she could do not to vomit then and there. "I'm-- I'm sorry, Gunther, I'm so sorry, I didn't-- I didn't mean to yell, I-I--" 

She turned away from him, feeling the tears in her throat even before they welled in her eyes. Why? Why was everything so horrible tonight? Fingers brushed against her shoulder blades, and she stiffened. A small part of her wished Gunther would simply push her over the banister and put her out of her misery, but the relief as he pulled loose the lacing up her back was almost as good. Just breathing shouldn't have felt so wonderful, but it did, and she gratefully sucked in several deep breaths as the knight retied her gown, far looser than before. 

"Is that better, Lady Nerr?" 

_ "Much." _

"I'm glad." She could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm sure your sister  _ means _ well, but she simply must remember that you are not her. She might be able to have her stays laced that tightly, but it's a wonder you didn't collapse on the dancefloor." 

She was sure  _ he _ meant just as well as Camilla, but every reminder that she in no way measured up to the elder princess felt like a knife being plunged into her heart. Nerr leaned against the banister, slumping in a way Camilla never would have. Her feet hurt, her ribs hurt, she was so tired, and it was still "early". No one else had run away from their dance partner and needed someone to help them breathe. No one else was finding every fault with this honor given to them by the king. She was just as stupid as that awful Iago thought she was. She didn't even know what direction she was facing. 

"I hate this…" 

"My lady?" Her sniffling was doing nothing to stop the snot running down her face, along with tears and sweat. 

"I thought tonight would be fun. Everyone always made it sound fun- they said it was a reward because I was doing well. But it's  _ not _ a reward! This isn't fun, it's just  _ work!" _ She couldn't hold back her sobs any longer, burying her face in her bare hands. "It's not fair! I practiced so hard, and for what? I just wanted one nice dance at a proper ball…!" 

She wished she could just find a dark corner to curl up in, but even if she did, she'd have a hard time even sitting in her big, stupid dress. She had been so happy with the indigo and gold brocade her sister had shown her weeks ago, but now that she actually  _ wore _ the heavy, multi-paneled mess, she just wanted to burn the whole monstrosity. The well worn leather that brushed against her cheeks felt almost as warm as skin. Peeking through her fingers, the sight of Gunther staring down at her with nothing but pity in his eyes made her want to burst into even louder tears. 

"I am so sorry, my little ladyship. I had hoped that, at least for one night, you would be able to enjoy the luxuries one of your status should. It seems foolish in hindsight to believe that King Garon would allow such a thing." She wanted to argue that her father hadn't orchestrated her dismal night, but she couldn't bring herself to defend him then and there. Inhaling deeply, the knight straightened. "I know it isn't what you were hoping for, but perhaps I might offer my lady a dance? If nothing else, I can promise not to talk your ears off." 

Nerr felt as if her lungs had become too small for the breath she had sucked in. No… this, too, was surely something waiting to turn horrible. 

"Do you… mean it?" 

"Of course. But only if you want to." He added far too quickly for her liking. "I would not force you to waste your time with a ragged hedge knight--" 

"Yes!" Mentally, she cringed, but her heart was soaring. "I mean-- yes! I would  _ gladly _ prefer to dance with you, Gunther." If she didn't know any better, she'd have sworn that his smile was more than a little relieved. 

"Well then, I shall have to do my best not to disappoint you." He couldn't even if he tried. Just the feeling of her hand in his made her heart flutter. She could faintly hear another song from inside the ballroom, but she could not bother to try and figure out what it actually was. Gunther seemed as unbothered by the song as she was, his steps far too slow to be keeping time. 

"You aren't dancing to the music." 

"No," He affirmed, adjusting the hand on her waist. "But there's no one out here to judge, and I would rather not make you put more weight on your foot than you need to." His concern touched her, and Nerr allowed herself to slow as well. 

It was hardly the dancing they had practiced in the library- it was hardly "dancing" at all, more swaying slightly to the vague idea of music, but Nerr had never been more content in her life. She wanted to keep staring up at her retainer, but her eyes were so heavy that she had to let them slip shut, just for a moment. Gunther said nothing, not even when she leaned against him. He was more rocking her than anything, but after all the jostling she had endured up to that point, it was nice to just have someone hold her, especially someone so warm and gentle… she could hear his heart, a steady comforting beat. 

_ This _ .  _ This _ was what she wanted, not the fancy dresses, or music, or dancing. Just a warm hand holding hers, and a steady heart-- The clatter was so loud and unexpected that her own heart nearly stopped. Her eyes flew open, but she could barely figure out what was going on. 

"Sire, I--" 

_ "Silence. _ Stand up straight, Nerr." 

"Huh? Xander? What-- ow!" The crown prince had roughly pulled her away from Gunther, and she'd had to put all of her weight on her injured foot to keep from falling. Xander paid her pained whimpers no mind as he dragged her back into the ballroom. After the cool, fresh air, the humid stench made her gag. Xander had backed her into a relatively secluded corner, his own back to the crowd so that only she could see the rage darkening his eyes. 

"What do you think you were doing, Nerr?" 

"I-- resting." A tic had started in his cheek. 

_ "That _ was resting? That didn't look like resting to me." 

"Well, it  _ was _ ." She tried not to squirm under his gaze. She was as much a royal as he was, and Nohrian royalty did not cower. "I'm hot and tired and my feet hurt, but  _ you _ don't care about that, so I had to escape for a few minutes before you dragged me off again." 

"Lord Harloe was in a  _ state _ when he came back to find you missing," Xander hissed under his breath. "The fool thought you had been trampled. I had to foist Camilla onto him to keep him from starting a search party." Nerr rolled her eyes and rubbed her forefinger and thumb together. 

"I'm playing the smallest violin for Camilla having to suffer my fate--" The prince grabbed her hand, almost crushing her fingers. She felt her heart lurch in fear. She had never seen her brother so angry before. 

"You left a nobleman looking the fool so you could go off cavorting with your servant. Do you have  _ any _ idea how  _ stupid _ that is? I don't enjoy kissing the asses of these pompous fools any more than you do, Nerr, but we all have a duty--" 

"I  _ did _ my duty!" She tried to push him away, but she may as well have been pushing the stone behind her. "I listened to them prattle, I danced until my feet bled, I nearly passed out because I couldn't breathe! What more do you want from me?!" Xander stared at her for a long while, before finally releasing her. He sighed deeply. 

"It isn't what  _ I _ want, little princess. It's what's expected of you. Father is judging you behavior tonight to decide when a betrothal--" 

_ "What? _ Betrothal? For who?!" 

"For  _ you _ , Nerr." Nerr felt her blood run cold. Betrothal? Marriage? N-no, that couldn't be-- that had to be a sick joke. 

"No one said anything about a betrothal!" 

"Well, of course not. Nothing has been decided yet. Father is still narrowing down a list of candidates--" 

_ "Father?! _ Are you implying I have no say in this?!" Xander closed his eyes- she couldn't shake the feeling that he was rolling them behind his lids. 

"I'm certain father will let you have the final choice, Nerr, but there is a great deal of consideration that must go into such a decision. Location, military might, agriculture--" 

"Love?!" She prompted, utterly disgusted. The way her brother looked at her, the condescension in his grin, made her want to knock his perfect teeth out. 

"What do you know of love, little princess?" 

"Enough to know that I won't marry any of these wretched men you've been passing me around to!" His smile took on a forced quality. 

"Oh? Have you grown infatuated with one of the heroes from your books?" Grinding her teeth, Nerr stomped her heel onto Xander's toes. It didn't do much through the thick leather of his boot, but she still took satisfaction in the twinge of pain that crossed his face. 

"Don't you mock me, brother. I am not some silly child. I know what I want in a husband, and it's  _ not _ a fleet of ships!" Any remaining humor vanished from his face at once. 

"So tell me, little princess. What is this perfect husband you have cooked up in your mind?" The princess flushed slightly. She wasn't expecting to be put on the spot like that, but she would not back down now. She could not let Xander think he was right. 

"Well… he has to be kind.  _ Truly _ kind, not someone who claims to be kind when he's actually a bastard. And gentle… but stern when he needs to be. He has to be intelligent- I won't abide a husband who doesn't enjoy reading. He must love books… and music. Even if he isn't musically gifted, he must still love music. And animals. And children… I want lots of children…" She whispered, more to herself than her brother. "Someone who would bring his children treats every time he goes to the market…" 

"Nerr." 

"He has to be strong, and brave, like a knight stories are written about…" 

_ "Nerr." _ Xander's voice held an edge to it, and she could practically hear him grinding his teeth as he often did when he was agitated. "You are being unrealistic, and setting yourself up for disappointment. No man will ever be able to live up to such lofty ideals." 

"That's not true! What about Gunther?" The words had been on her tongue by pure instinct- she hadn't intended to actually  _ say _ them, but they'd spilled past her lips regardless. Xander's mouth moved like a fish that had been pulled onto shore. 

"... _ what did you say?" _ She should have been quiet, or pretended like she had said something different, but it was impossible to think when everything was so loud and hot and wretched around her. 

"I could… marry someone like… Gunther…" She could barely eke out a whisper, her face feeling as though it had been set ablaze. She yelped as two hands slapped against the brick behind her, Xander's arms like the iron bars of a cage on either side of her. 

"Put it from your mind, sister." 

"Wh-what?" 

"If you ever say such a thing again- if you so much as  _ think it _ \- I will have that man sent away." She'd never heard that tone from him before. He didn't sound  _ angry _ , and yet… there was so much fury, so much disgust in every word that she felt tears well up in her eyes once more. "You are a royal daughter of Nohr, whose bloodline can be traced back to the Ancient Ones themselves. You will not debase yourself, or our family's name, by marrying a  _ peasant _ . You  _ cannot _ be this stupid, Nerr." 

"I…" He straightened, lowering his arms. 

"You will never bring this up again.  _ Especially _ not to father. You should thank the gods that he has the sense to save you from yourself. Now stay here while I go find Lord Harloe. You will apologize to him and give him the dance you owe him- do I make myself clear, Nerr?" 

She nodded mutely, not even facing her brother as he turned on his heel. If it wasn't for her stays pinching her at every turn, she would have slid to the floor. _You will not debase yourself by marrying a_ ** _peasant_** _…_ _'Why…?'_ She longed to cry out after him. Why was marrying such a good person such a bad thing? But his warning rang sharp in her mind, the seething rage in his eyes so like their father, warning her not to test him, not on this. This one thing that mattered so much more to her than anything else. 

Why… why? Why was she being punished this time?  _ If you so much as  _ **_think it_ ** _... _ What had she done so wrong that even her dreams had to be taken away? Her stomach roiled as she swallowed the bile that kept rising in her throat. Camilla never said anything about a betrothal. Was this just another unpleasant aspect of royal life that they conveniently omitted, or was this something she had brought about on herself? 

Had father decided that she was progressing so poorly in her training that he had to sell her for more troops? Why not tell her that was the punishment for failure? Her mind kept circling back to why,  _ why why why? _ It kept her locked in place until a pair of boots stopped in front of her, boots that she had expected to belong to Xander but were too worn for that. 

"My lady?" Gunther's voice was little more than a sorrowful whisper, just loud enough to be heard over the din of the room. "I beg you forgive me for my foolishness. It was my fault, keeping you from the ball. ...I shouldn't have said anything." 

Nerr closed her eyes, wishing she could close her ears without moving her arms. If she slammed her head into the wall behind her as hard as she could, would that kill her? Or at least knock her out? Xander would be coming back soon, angry and mean and disappointed in her, and he might even bring father, who would  _ really _ be mad, and from somewhere, that horrible Iago would be watching a smirking because how could someone so  _ stupid _ be a princess…? 

"Lady Nerr?" Even though they were chilled from the air outside, Gunther's fingers felt like a firebrand on her bare shoulder. She wanted to push him away, but if she moved, she would throw up, and something that shameful would certainly debase her family's name. "You look unwell. Did Prince Xander--" He stopped himself, perhaps not wanting to hear a certain answer. He probably wouldn't care much about what Xander had actually done. "Do you need a healer, my lady?" 

She could have said "no", and forced herself to smile like she had been doing all night. She could have just shaken her head in silence. That would have been an acceptable answer. Xander was coming back, coming back to shove her back to the grindstone, to dance with and listen to nobles their father might decide she would need to marry. She wasn't even wearing shoes, she remembered belatedly. She had noticed them dangling from Gunther's hand before she closed her eyes. He was so thoughtful, so kind, so--  _ Put it from your mind, sister… _

"I want to go home now…" 

The night was still young. 

Xander told her to stay there. 

He would be so mad if she moved. 

"Of course, my lady. Perhaps you should lean on me."  _ You are being unrealistic. You  _ **_cannot_ ** _ be this stupid, Nerr… _ No one looked at them as they walked away. Or maybe they did, and Nerr just didn't notice, too busy staring at the floor in front of her. Xander would be so mad. Father would be even madder. Maybe he would come out to the Citadel again. There would be no one around. Maybe he would kill her this time; rid himself of such a worthless daughter. 

When she wasn't stopping every few feet to look around, the halls didn't seem nearly as long. Far sooner than she expected, the massive wooden doors groaned open for them and they were back outside. Nerr would have been completely lost, despite having passed through this way only hours ago, but Gunther knew exactly where to go and who to speak to, and before she knew it, he was lifting her onto Caractacus' back, deftly climbing up behind her and pressing his heels into the courser's sides to set him walking. 

She half expected Xander or Camilla to come flying out behind them, ready to drag her back. But no one followed. The journey back to the Northern Citadel was silent, save for the wind howling over the jagged peaks. More than once, Nerr wondered if it wouldn't be a wiser choice to just hurl herself over the edge of the path. After all, did it really matter at this point? She was all but dead already. If she didn't do it herself, King Garon would come and execute her for shaming his family, and even if he didn't, he'd cart her off to some horrid stranger like a goat for slaughter and that would be the end of her life. 

The cold, ever growing darkness that had once plagued her nightmares was returning, and the jagged abyss just to her right was starting to seem like a kinder alternative with every passing second. Just one little leap- a hop, really- and no one would be mad at her anymore. Something squeezed her around the middle. Gunther had let one of the hands loosely holding Caractacus' reins drop and had instead wrapped it around her waist, locking her in place. 

"The winds can kick up suddenly this time of year, my lady. I wouldn't want you to go tumbling into the ravine."  _ I will have that man sent away… You will not debase yourself… _ Nerr tried to choke back her sobs, hating every wretched sound that escaped her stupid lips, hating every tear that dripped from her chin, and hating herself more than anything. Stupid, stupid,  _ stupid! _ How stupid was she, thinking of marriage, thinking that  _ anyone _ would want a stupid, sniveling crybaby for a wife. 

"Thunder…" She stiffened, confused. There was no thunder. What was he-- "I think there's a shower coming in, Lady Nerr. I felt some raindrops. I'm sorry you might get wet." Get…? Oh. Oh… Her tears came harder and faster than before as she once again let herself weep softly, not daring to cry any louder. 

The Citadel's towers loomed ahead, and Nerr longed to hurry and reach them, to run up to her room and bar the door, and keep as much stone and iron and hostile terrain between her and the life she thought she wanted as possible.  _ Put it from your mind, sister… _

She would. She would put every hope, every dream, every idea of happiness from her mind and stay in her cold, lonely tower until her dying day, however soon that may be. She had sold her world for a dance…

000000000

_ "So close to reaching that famous happy end. Almost believing this one's not pretend…" _

**Author's Note:**

> So… that's been in my mind for literal years. I've often depicted Xander as being kind of a complete ass in my fics, and sometimes it seems like it just comes out of left field… but it shouldn't. Xander is a piece of work canonically- some of his supports made me hate him more than Birthright ever could (I will never forgive him for his A support with Charlotte). He makes it pretty clear on several occasions that Xander puts Xander first and everyone else second, and I absolutely see him flipping his shit if someone doesn't play along with that (never forget Silas/Peri's B support). He's Nerrs' brother, and she loves him enough to overlook a lot of his assholey behavior, but everyone has a line that, once crossed, can't be uncrossed. And for a very emotionally unstable sixteen year old Nerr, this was that line. Poor Gunther has no idea why his little ladyship changed that day.


End file.
